


Saar-Qamek

by lrceleste



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Character Death, M/M, Qun!Bull - Freeform, Spoilers, Trespasser DLC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 19:29:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4799534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lrceleste/pseuds/lrceleste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The bad ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saar-Qamek

**Author's Note:**

> It's taken me several days to write a thousand words because every time I came back to I start crying again...
> 
> [In case you were wondering I was listening to this whilst writing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gKy8dq06zjk)

He’d laughed, snorted when the Viddasala had called on Hissrad, _Hissrad._ He knew better than that, he knew _The Iron Bull._ These Qunari thought he would turn against them like that?!

“Understood, ma’am.”

Dorian turned to look at the Bull, surely he’d misunderstood. Of course, that must be the case, it wasn’t a common occurrence, but there was no way… Surely-… ‘Amatus?’ formed on his lips but he stilled as Bull unsheathed his great-axe. Dawnstone pink. Specially commissioned for him, who else in Thedas would ask for a pink axe?! Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes.

“Change of plans.” Bull began. “Nothing personal… Bas.”

Levellan jumped away, fast enough to avoid the swing the Bull made, but still she staggered. And Dorian watched. He stood, frozen, and watched as Bull turned against them. It was Sera’s scream that freed him from his trance, a qunari almost landing a blow with a maul. He threw up barrier after barrier, the rest of his mana spent on projecting errant fireballs towards the other qunari warriors. He kept his sights on the qunari’s, as if watching them made it as though the situation wasn’t true, only glancing at Sera and Levellan when he had to cast a barrier. Bull’s battle cries and grunts were in an effort to aid them, not betray. If he didn’t look too closely he could fool himself.

It was only when the call came. The Viddasala shouting “Stop the mage.”

When metal clattered against the ground behind him he turned quickly, ready to force the oncoming qunari backwards with a ball of flame. But the fire dissipated in his fingers, trails of smoke left behind. As he steps backwards the smoke hit him, memories of the first time they’d used magic, Bull had been wary, he still was for a while. Dorian had been tentative with heat, never flames, but smoke, Bull liked that. Curling towards the ceiling, Dorian breathed it out and his skin glowed hot. _Ataashi._

Now he breathed it in, burning the back of his throat, his eyes stinging, as Bull stepped closer, letting go of the hilt of his great-axe, letting the huge weapon fall to the ground. His name was called, but it was far away.

As Bull pulled the dagger from his belt Dorian threw down a barrier, watching as the shimmering blue magic caught at Bull’s form. It was a sloppy mistake, a sub conscious mistake, too used to his targets.

The grip on his staff tightened, and he readied it for attack, even as Bull stepped closer, dagger brandished. And Dorian knew, he knew through tears he could no longer discern were caused by smoke or grief, that he would not use it.

Bull’s hand rested on the back of his neck, and when Dorian looked up he expected the snarl, the split lipped grin that Bull wore in his blood lust, when his reaver senses had taken over and there was little but the fight left. Instead he found sorrow, soft and gentle, like the hand on his neck, like he could almost pretend, but for the clashing of qunari and inquisition, that nothing had happened.

“Katoh.” Dorian choked.

But Bull, _Hissrad,_ shook his head. “Not this time. Asit tal-eb”

He saw the swift shift of Bull’s arm, but it didn’t register, even as the strangled cry escaped from his own lips. Dorian’s hands moved slowly, trembling fingers feeling under his ribs, feeling the hilt. Large hands led him to the ground, laying his head down gently.

“Don’t take it out yet kadan.” A gentle voice commanded. He reached out scarlet fingers towards the voice, but already it was gone.

The clashing of metal continued on, as he laid there, the pain hitting him as he cried, throbbing under his ribs, burning like fire. Until it went deathly quiet. Then there were hands on him again, these small and shaking, and shuffling footsteps coming closer, loud cursing.

“This whole time? Just… Frig, frigging, lop-horned son of a pissing shit!” Sera swore as Levellan pushed a potion to his lips.

“I don’t understand how he could fight beside us for years and just…” Levellan cried.

“The Iron bull must be so proud of himself. ‘Kadan’…” Dorian laughed, he laughed and it stung like the burning pain in his chest, bitter and humourless.

“I’m going to pull the knife out.” Levellan stated, and before he had time to protest, he was already screaming, looking down at the blade covered in his own blood. Darkness creeped into the edges of his vision as small hands pressed down on his bleeding chest.

“Piss!” Sera exclaimed as she looked down at the blade. “It’s poisoned, Bull- That frigging traitor, told me about it, qunari stuff.”

“Saar-Qamek?” Dorian asked.

“Yeah.” Sera answered quietly.

“But, he told me about it too, I should be incoherent.”

“Let’s get you back.” Levellan said. “I’ll come back and deal with the dragon later.”

Being held up by two slim female elves was not ideal, not when it left him hunched over the injury. As they left the room he caught a glimpse, a body face down, wide shoulders and grey skin, a pink axe only feet away, horns that stretched outwards. But he would lie to himself for a long time, a lot of qunaris littered the floor, it could have been anyone. Even when he caught the glimpse of the dragon tooth necklace as Levellan pulled him away. It could have been anyone…

It was hours later, when Levellan had returned with Cassandra, Sera and Vivienne, down an arm and explaining the threat that Solas posed. Dorian sat to the side, sipping on a cup of tea that had been offered to him, even infused with elfroot it tasted better than any he had drunk since he had arrived in the South.

Everybody had the good manners to avoid asking when the tea dropped from his fingers, tears prickling his eyes. However as his hand reached up for the dragon tooth necklace, and a sob escaped him, Levellan ducked down to him.

“The tea tasted like shit.” Dorian began. “Bull made it, I told him, so he- he put more sugar in, I tried the coffee but that tasted shit too. The saar-qamek didn’t kill me, he-… I think he was putting the antidote in my drinks. But- But why would he do that?”

Levellan shook her head slightly unable to offer an answer.

He lied to himself about that too, about the dragon tooth necklace he kept in a box. But one day he had to admit the truth, Bull knew how to kill every one of them, Cole had revealed it once, Bull had a plan for all of their deaths. If Bull had put poison in that tea on any of those mornings, he would have drunk it just the same. But he didn’t, and he could have stabbed him in the heart, could have slit his throat. He knew Lavellen’s moves, a foot to the left and he’d have killed her with his first strike. And Sera, in the end a lone archer against a group of Ben-Hassrath was easy pickings.

He couldn’t decide which version he hated worse, the one where Bull was just a qunari who had betrayed them, _The Iron Bull_ had always been Hissrad. Or the one where he knew the Bull hadn’t killed them, even when the blow was there, where he’d died with a dragon’s tooth around his neck, and Dorian was left with memories and a necklace in a sealed box, a necklace that perfectly covered a hole in his chest.


End file.
